


you'll be my offbeat

by littlemusings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A cappella AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, rivals au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9528824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemusings/pseuds/littlemusings
Summary: The last thing Yuuri Katsuki wants is a repeat of his disastrous audition for City University’s most prestigious a cappella group, The Symphonics. After the video of a cover he performs at an open mic night goes viral, Victor Nikiforov* seeks him out to give him another chance.(*-AKA two-time best soloist and three-time best arrangement awardee at the International Championship of Collegiate A Cappella, rising YouTube musician, and CU dream boy.)





	1. youtube boy

**Author's Note:**

> all the love to my wonderful friends and fellow collegiate a cappella survivors, maddie and [alexie](http://www.fishenod.tumblr.com). title is from clara c's wonderful tune, "offbeat."
> 
> you can find the official playlist here on [youtube](https://youtu.be/-9y69j5YP3Q?list=PLG0iU0C0FPc0deYQMSe8z8sqiNK63y-xZ). all of these tunes inspired this fic. for now, you can listen and figure out how.

**Fall 2014**

Yuuri Katsuki’s heart races as he runs down a long, narrow hallway, his backpack hanging recklessly over one shoulder. His eyes flit between the doors on either side of him; their large, black numbers staring back at him almost mockingly. _Where the hell is that room?_ He stops and breathes for a second and looks around until he sees a small piece of paper affixed to a wall at the end of the hallway. He runs up to it and reads it quickly--

_Symphonics Auditions: This Way!_

By some miracle, he’d found where to go. He had never been to this part of the music building before; these were the rooms dedicated to vocal students. _Oh, thank god,_ he thinks.

Yuuri hears his phone beep several times, and he stops, taking it out of his pocket, frustrated.

 **To Yuuri (6:30PM)  
** _Please don’t ignore me._

 **To Yuuri (6:31PM)  
** _You know it’s your fault. We need to talk, now._

 _God damn it_ , he thinks, trying to fight back the tears as he switches his phone to silent mode. _Of all the days…_

He follows the arrow on the sign down the hallway to his right, and then he sees it: the small crowd of people waiting outside Room 231b. Panting, he slows his pace and finds an empty spot on a wall just a few paces down, next to a guy in a dark t-shirt.

“Hey there!” the guy says as soon as he sets his backpack down. Yuuri looks at him, with his neat hair cut and ‘Hello, My Name Is’ name tag with the name _Jean-Jacques “J.J.” Leroy_ written messily on it. “You here to audition, too?”

His voice is way too loud for Yuuri’s liking. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket again. He ignores it.

“Yeah,” Yuuri replies, his legs still shaky from running as he glances over J.J.’s shoulders at the other auditionees mingling in the hall. He starts to feel that familiar weight on his chest, but he ignores it for now. “Yeah, auditions.”

“Me too,” J.J. says with a laugh. “My second audition of the day!”

“Nice.”

J.J. stares at him. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

“Just...a little nervous.” Yuuri tugs at his sweater collar, taking a deep breath. “Um, do you mind? I think I just need a little space.”

“Okay, okay,” J.J. replies. “Say, before I leave you alone - I never got your name.”

“Yuuri Katsuki.”

Another text.

“Nice to meet you, Yuuri. I’m J.J. Hope to see you at callbacks!”

J.J. stalks off to talk to other auditionees and Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief as he pulls his water bottle out of his backpack and takes a swig. He takes his folded audition form out of his pocket and reviews everything he wrote, from his name down to listing his musical experience.

 _You’ve got this, okay? Everything’s totally going to be_ \--

“Yuuri Katsuki?” a voice calls out. Yuuri’s head whips up so quickly he feels a sharp pain on his neck, and he rubs it gingerly as he stands up. He sees a tall young woman with red hair poking out of Room 231b. He recognizes her almost immediately - she was a soloist at the spring concert his roommate had dragged him to last spring.

“H-hi!” he says, waving. He pulls his vibrating phone out of his pocket and dumps it in his backpack. She gestures for him to come over, and Yuuri nearly trips over his own feet as he power-walks to the door. She steps to the side and closes the door behind him.

Yuuri stares at the room before him - it’s small; the ceiling is high, though, and he hears his own footsteps echo against the tile. Good acoustics.

“Go ahead and take a seat right there,” the redhead says, pointing to a chair at the center of the room.

The center of the room.

Yuuri nods slowly, suppressing a nervous gulp, and he makes his way to the middle and sits down, setting his bag down on the floor next to him. He stares at the panel of people sitting in front of him - only one of the seats seem to be empty.

“Hi, Yuuri. I’m Mila Babicheva, the vice president of The Symphonics,” the redhead says with a smile. “Thanks for coming today. Okay, so,” she says, clapping her hands. “Everyone else, introduce yourselves.”

Everyone at the table introduces themselves quickly, and Yuuri barely has any time to register any of their names.

“Unfortunately, our co-music director, Victor couldn’t make it today. Had a class scheduled tonight,” Mila says with a sigh. “Also, are you okay with us recording your audition?”

She extends a tripod with a DSLR atop it.

 _Oh, no._ “Yeah, yeah, totally fine,” Yuuri says, almost a little too loudly.

“Alright, show us what you’ve got. Christophe, piano.”

Yuuri stands up way too quickly, and he nearly loses his balance as the guy named Christophe sits down at the baby grand next to him.

“So,” Christophe says as he plays a chord, “We’re just going to test your range. This okay to start? We’re gonna go up first. Sing on the syllable ‘oo.’”

Yuuri nods, wringing his hands together, palms sweaty.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

When Yuuri opens his mouth, something garbled comes out. He clasps his hands over his mouth immediately.

“It’s okay, I know this is nerve-wracking, but you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Mila says kindly. She looks over at Christophe, who nods and plays the opening chord and the tonic.

Silence.

Taking a shaky breath, Yuuri shuts his eyes and starts doing the warm-up. Okay. So far, so good.

And then, his voice cracks.

And then he makes a run for the door.

He hears Mila call after him, and then J.J., but he doesn’t stop running until after he exits the music building.

* * *

**Fall 2015**

_City University A Cappella Presents:_

PITCH-A-THON

A Concert Featuring CU’s A Cappella Groups

Hosted by The Symphonics

7PM, The Angelou Center Auditorium

Yuuri Katsuki stares at the poster hanging on the bulletin board outside of his apartment building, and lets out a loud sigh, hugging his bag of groceries closer to his chest. He hears his roommate huffing behind him, dragging a large 40-pack case of bottled water.

“Yuuri, I thought you were going to open the door,” Phichit Chulanont grunts as he struggles to hold on to the plastic edges of the case. “I can’t-- _ugh_ \--hold this much longer.”

“Ah, sorry!” Yuuri exclaims, grabbing the other end of the case. Phichit raises his eyebrows and looks at the poster as the two of them begin to head upstairs.

“You should go, you know,” he says, breathless as they finally reach their third-floor apartment. “It won’t hurt.”

“What are you talking about?” Yuuri says nervously as he unlocks the door.

Phichit rolls his eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. The a cappella concert.”

“I’m not auditioning.”

“You don’t _have_ to be auditioning,” Phichit reasons, dragging the case and leaving it by the front door. “It’s just a welcome concert! You know the drill. Everyone dresses up, shows off, The Symphonics brag about being CU’s ‘ _premiere a cappella group_ ’ and blah, blah, blah. At least go for the music. Go for me! I don’t have a solo because Mickey’s being mean like always, but still, go! All of our friends are gonna be there!”

“All of _your_ friends,” Yuuri says with a slight smile as he peels his shoes off and makes his way to the kitchen to put away their groceries. “I just know them by association.”

“ _Alai wah,"_  Phichit laughs, pushing his shoulder playfully and taking his phone out. “Okay, a cappella talk later, selfie time now.”

“ _Really_?” Yuuri says with a snort as he turns to face Phichit’s camera.

“To our first Costco trip of the year!” Phichit chimes as he takes the photo, the two of them laughing happily. As Phichit tucks his phone in his pocket, he adds, “Okay, a cappella talk, again. If you want to go to the concert, text me before doors open so I can rope a seat off for you in the back.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready now?” Yuuri laughs. “Okay, fine, I’ll text you if I end up going. AMSA at seven.”

“That’s tonight?” Phichit exclaims, taking his phone again out to look at his Google Calendar. “Huh. I didn’t get the notification. Whatever. Looks like I’m gonna miss it. Come on, Yuuri, ditch it. Just come to the show!”

“I said I’ll let you know!”

“Okay, fine. I better see that back row seat filled.”

“I thought you weren’t going to rope it off until I texted you later?”

“This way you’ll go _for sure._ ”

“Ugh.”

Phichit pat Yuuri on the shoulder and runs into his room, grabs his backpack, and bolts out the front again, yelling, “See you later, roomie!” Yuuri jumps a little as the door slams shut behind his roommate and lets out a sigh of relief.

He walks straight to his room and pulls the cover off his keyboard, and traces the plastic keys lightly with his fingers before turning it on.

Yuuri closes his eyes for a brief second, takes a deep breath, and begins to play. He lets himself go, allowing his hands to work their way about the keys, and he begins to sing quietly. He sings and sings, until his phone lights up with a notification:

_Open Mic Night, 7PM @ The Peak_

* * *

When Yuuri enters the The Peak, he immediately feels like he wants to go home. He clutches his music notebook tightly to his chest and scans the tiny crowd; the venue is small and intimate. He takes a seat close to the bar, looking around at all of the show posters and kitschy little paintings that cover the cafe’s wall.

He feels a little bad lying to Phichit about the AMSA meeting, but at the same time he didn’t - he’d been planning to go to this open mic event for weeks now, ever since he saw the event page on Facebook. He sits and watch some of the opening performances, getting just a little more nervous after each one.

_No. Stop it. Not tonight._

After what feels like an eternity, the host gets up on stage and announces: “Up next, we have Yuuri, a third year general bio major  _and_ musician!”

Yuuri stands up quickly, and walks towards the stage, feeling everyone’s eyes on him as he sits down at the cafe’s piano and adjusts the microphone just a little.

“Hi, everyone,” he says, clearing his throat. “I haven’t done this in a while, so, um, please enjoy.”

He inhales and exhales deeply, and starts playing.

When Yuuri performs (in front of people) for the first time in years, he feels like an entirely new person. He feels a formerly dormant flame flicker within his chest as he allows himself to get lost in the music, his hands sliding across the keyboard as he plays out the intro to _Runnin’_. And, when he finally feels ready, he allows himself to start singing.

It’s almost cathartic. He’d been practicing the song quietly in his and Phichit’s apartment for weeks, way before his roommate had moved back in. He came across it by chance online while browsing for new music. Upon hearing the first chords, he knew that he wanted _this_ to be the song that would slowly get him back into the groove since wasn’t taking many music classes this year. It seemed like fate was playing games with him when he saw the event page for the open mic night at The Peak.

He hears the small audience murmur, and out of the corner of his eye spots few phones lifted up - probably to take photos, or to ignore him altogether; there were plenty of more talented acts lined up for the evening. He feels that familiar, weird feeling in his gut, but pushes on.

Yuuri thinks back on that failed Symphonics audition - a day that was already made terrible by his huge argument with Junya, his ex, and the death of Vicchan all in one go. The pressure had been on to make the day end on a good note. It didn’t.

And he’s all the more better for it.

Well, for the most part.

He finishes the song, and he’s given polite applause by the people in the audience. His chest feels much lighter as he packs up his sheet music and does a quick little bow, pink in the face. Some people compliment him and his performance as he heads out, and he shakes their hands quickly. After what feels like rolling through a comforting, compliment-full fog, he begins the mad dash across campus to make it to the Angelou Center in time for the end of Pitch-A-Thon.

Yuuri hears loud cheers coming from the auditorium when he approaches the front doors of the Center.

The crowd is so huge; it spills out into the foyer as people try to listen in on the groups performing.

“Excuse me,” Yuuri asks another student, panting, “Which group just performed?”

The other student, a shorter, blond kid, frowns at him. “Should’ve gotten here earlier.”

Slightly taken aback, Yuuri rolls his eyes and squeezes through, yelping out quick apologies as he weaves through the crowds. When he finally makes it to the seated area, he notices the back seat roped off for him, pulls off the tape, and sits down, only to see Phichit’s group, Vocal Point, bow and walk off the stage to raucous applause.

 _Ah, damn it_ , Yuuri thinks, sighing. A young woman, who Yuuri recognized as Phichit’s groupmate, Sara Crispino, walks on stage, holding a small set of notecards. _I guess she’s the emcee tonight._

“And that was my group, Vocal Point! Thank you so much to all of you for coming out tonight - it’s a packed house! Just don’t tell the fire marshall.” Scattered laughter. “Okay, okay, up last, but certainly not least--” Sara flips through her cards. Yuuri, for a brief second, thinks he sees her rolling her eyes--he knows who’s up next, and he grips his arm rests a little too tightly.

“Last but not least, we have the very first a cappella group founded here at City University. Alright, everyone, give it up for The Symphonics!”

If the cheers for Vocal Point had been loud, the screams for The Symphonics were up several decibels. Yuuri’s breath slightly catches in his chest when he sees Mila Babicheva, Christophe Giacometti, and _him_ , Victor Nikiforov, walk up on stage with the rest of their group, looking classy as ever.

Yuuri bites his lip as he sees them take a very familiar formation on stage.  _Oh, this is their 2015 ICCA finals set,_ he remembers. He’d pored over the YouTube video hundreds of times, listening to every harmony and beat made, picking up the nuances of each arrangement. The group had won the 2015 ICCA Finals, sweeping most the awards.

The pitch pipe is blown, and then, The Symphonics kick off their set with last year’s best arrangement - and the song that had earned Victor Nikiforov the 2015 best arrangement award (and Christophe the best soloist award at the Southwestern Semifinals), “Gibberish.” It’s a poppy and extremely catchy tune - there is no denying that the Symphonics want everyone to know that they are the best CU has to offer, and weren’t going anywhere. Their harmonies echo off the walls of the auditorium, and the audience is enraptured.

Especially Yuuri. The song ends, and the pitch pipe goes off again to signal the second song, “Collar Full” - it’s a slowed-down arrangement of the Panic! At the Disco tune that Yuuri wished had won best arrangement instead: it’s a Victor Nikiforov masterpiece.

And Victor himself was the soloist.

Yuuri remembers the first time he watched Victor perform live on campus. He’d opened right before some indie band at The Peak during freshman year; Yuuri had gone to the show on a whim after Phichit had convinced him to. Victor had longer hair back then, tied up in a messy bun as he played some song covers and original tunes.

Yuuri remembers falling for his voice, well-trained and smooth. After that, he only saw Victor in person a few more times around campus, in one or two music classes they’d shared (they were classes with over one hundred students - general education courses), and at The Symphonics’ Spring Concert at the end of his second year, after Victor had cut his hair to its current length. Other than that, he (and most of the students at City University) had subscribed to Victor’s popular YouTube channel and watched him perform there.

Yuuri finds himself staring at Victor and takes a deep breath and looks away quickly as they finish the second song and breeze through their third and final tune.

The entire audience is on their feet by the end of it, clapping so loud that Yuuri finds himself joining in on the standing ovation.

 _They’re as good as ever,_ he thinks wistfully.

Much of the crowd disperses after the show, and a handful of students stick around to visit the groups’ booths in the back of the auditorium. Yuuri finds Phichit at the Vocal Point table and gives his roommate a hug.

“Saw you come in late,” Phichit says with a fake frown. “But, you made it just in time for the finale. I’m glad you came anyway,” he adds, smiling and clapping his friend on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll explain later.”

Phichit raises his eyebrows when he notices Yuuri clutching his music notebook. “You didn’t go to an AMSA meeting, didn’t you?”

“Go, talk to the potential new kids,” Yuuri says, shooing Phichit playfully. Phichit grins and gives Yuuri one last hug before talking to his groupmates and a gaggle of first years with a hundred questions.

When Yuuri is about to exit the auditorium, he hears an all-too familiar voice call out, “Yuuri! Yuuri Katsuki?”

He braces himself and turns around with a slightly forced smile. “J.J.! Hi.”

“Glad you came to the show. Did you like our performance?”

Yuuri scratches the back of his head, embarrassed. “Sorry, I came in right as Vocal Point ended.”

“Oh, man. You missed a damn good set,” J.J. says, a little too cockily. “Pitch Slapped is trying to compete this year. You should audition.”

“Nah,” Yuuri says, shaking his head. “I’m good. But good luck at ICCAs. You’re all going to be great.”

After another minute of talking, J.J. excuses himself to join his group - CU’s only all-male a cappella group, Pitch Slapped - and hand out flyers. Yuuri continues heading towards the door, a little absent-minded as he stares at the seven tables representing his school’s seven a cappella groups.

 _My dumb luck_ , he thinks, taking a deep breath as he starts to walk a little faster as he gets closer to The Symphonics’ table, which is positioned right next to the door. He pulls his beanie down a little and looks right at the ground, trying not to look at them, when--

“Ooof.”

“I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, it’s totally okay, you’re fine!”

Yuuri’s notebook had fallen to the floor, pages spilling out. Frantic, he starts picking up the pages and his hand meets that of the person he’d bumped into--

And then, their eyes meet.

_Oh my god._

“I’m so sorry, I should pay more attention,” Victor Nikiforov says apologetically, sounding a little breathless as he hands Yuuri a stack of fallen sheet music.

At a loss for words, Yuuri blinks and swallows. “No, it’s okay. I...I wasn’t paying attention. T-thanks,” he stutters as he collects the rest of the sheet music, stands up and runs straight out the door.

“Wait!”

He feels Victor’s eyes staring into his back as he pushes the Auditorium doors open and hurries back to his apartment.

* * *

“You _performed_? Yuuri!” Phichit exclaims, scandalized as he takes a sip of his tea. “I’m not mad that you didn’t watch the full concert, or anything, I’m just really upset you didn’t tell me that you sang last night. In public.”

Yuuri sighs, shutting his genetics textbook. “I just...I just needed to do something, you know? I’d been practicing the song for a while--”

“I know, I heard you sing it in the bathroom,” Phichit says with a shrug. Yuuri’s eyes widen in horror. “What? I sing in the shower, too.”

“I…” Yuuri’s at a loss for words. “I’m sorry.”

Phichit’s eyes soften. “It’s okay. I forgive you. Did someone at least record it?”

“No,” Yuuri says.

“You are _no_  fun,” Phichit groans. “Anyway, you’ll have to perform it for me sometime. Wait! Now that you’re singing in public again, does that mean--”

“No, Phichit, I’m not going to audition for an a cappella group this year. We know what happened last time.”

“That was _last time_. And you were going through a rough time, okay?”

“Don’t remind me,” Yuuri sighs. “I’m still not going to do it.”

“Well, okay,” Phichit concedes, turning on his laptop. “God, who the heck assigns homework and reading during the first week of class?”

“All of the Bio classes,” Yuuri says with a grin as he opens his textbook again and uncaps his highlighter, laying back on the couch.

“I don’t want to do this assignment,” Phichit groans. He starts scrolling through his laptop, and the two of them fall into a comfortable science for a good few minutes.

That is, until Phichit lets out a loud yelp, nearly causing Yuuri to nearly drop his textbook on his face.

“Yuuri. Come here.”

“Can’t it wait?”

Phichit shakes his head, eyes wide. “Nope. No.”

And then, with a click, Yuuri hears his cover of _Runnin’_ blast through Phichit’s speakers.

 _Oh no, oh no, no, no_. A video of his cover had been posted to the City University Confessions Page.

The video, which was posted about an hour ago, came with the title, “Cute Pre-Med Sings Some Beyonce” and the description:

“‘ _Looks like not all pre-meds are stuck in the library all day!! They can be pretty cute, too! Please sing me to sleep all the time, cutie!_ ’” Phichit reads out loud, bursting into laughter.

Mortified, Yuuri notices that a few of his pre-med friends and even a few family friends already tagged him on the post, which is already up to 400 likes. It’s no surprise - CU students were known to be fast, and relentless.

 **Phichit Chulanont** 12:00PM  
_Yuuri Katsuki_ PLS LOOK AT THIS O M G IT’S U

(“Why did you tag me just now when I’m literally right here?” “Shhhhhh,” Phichit snaps, still watching the video.)

 **Jean-Jacques Leroy** 12:05PM  
And you said you weren’t performing anymore, _Yuuri_!

 **Yuuko Nishigori** 12:30PM  
勇利くん!!!! 上手ですんえ〜!!! Miss you!! _Yuuri Katsuki_

He softens a little at the sight of Yuuko’s comment, but he stares in disbelief at the rate of comments appearing on the post. “I...oh my god.”

“Yuuri. Oh my god. You sound amazing!” Phichit exclaims, grabbing his roommate’s arm and shaking it. “What the hell!”

“I just...I…”

“You’re CU-famous now.”

“No, thanks,” Yuuri says, holding his hands up and running straight to his room. He hears Phichit shut his laptop and jump over the couch to follow him.

“Yuuri!”

“I think I need to take a nap.”

“Now, of all times?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, falling face first onto his bed. Phichit clears his throat.

“Okay. Want me to turn off the lights?”

Yuuri nods, thankful. Phichit knew better than anyone what to do in situations like this (they just hadn’t happened in a while); he’s incredibly perceptive that way. Yuuri hears the light switch off, and the sound of Phichit’s feet padding quietly out of the room before he closes the door.

When he’s sure that he’s alone, Yuuri turns over to face the ceiling, still incredibly pink in the face.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Wow.”

He stares at a dot on his ceiling until he falls asleep.

* * *

After what seems like forever, Yuuri is shaken awake by his roommate.

“Huh? Wha…?”

“I was gonna wait until you actually woke up, but this is really important.”

Frowning, Yuuri says hoarsely, “What?”

“So, uh,” Phichit begins, taking a seat on the stool next to Yuuri’s nightstand. “Someone came by earlier.”

“Who?”

Phichit’s voice mumbles out: “Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri sits up so quickly that his head slightly bangs against his headboard. “AH, _fuck_! What?”

“Victor Nikiforov came by earlier and wanted to see you.”

“Don’t do this to me, Phichit.”

“He wanted to talk to you about auditioning for--”

“No. No way.”

“I have his number! Right here!” Phichit exclaims, pulling a green Post-It note out of his pocket. Yuuri squinted briefly before putting his glasses on to read it. In neat cursive, it read:

_Hi Yuuri,_

_Sorry I missed you. :( Call me!_

_(555) 5698-2222_ _-V.N._

“Come on. You’ve gotta do it,” Phichit says excitedly.

“No.”

“Yuuri!” Phichit says, throwing a pillow at his roommate. “Okay. I’m gonna be honest with you, alright? I’m tired of hearing you sing in the shower. Well, not because I hate it. You have a great voice, but because you’re _wasting away_! You should be singing on stage! With people! Or, by yourself, I mean, that’s also great--”

“Phichit, I am _not_ wasting away. I’m just...busy. Definitely busier than I was last year. I don’t have time.”

Phichit rolled his eyes. “‘I don’t have time,’ HA.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and opened up his video folder. “Look at this album of all the times you’ve sung in the shower. You’ve definitely got time to sing--”

“PHICHIT!” Yuuri exclaimed, horrified as he sat up in bed, grabbing the phone and scrolling through the video album. “What the hell?! You didn’t show me this earlier!”

“Trust me, I didn’t bring the camera inside the bathroom. I recorded from outside the door!”

“Phichit!”

“I couldn’t help it! I was thinking, ‘Hm, maybe I can use this as blackmail one day.’ But, you know, I really don’t blackmail people, but I thought, hmmm, I might need these videos someday. I guess that someday is _now._ ”

Yuuri stares at the grid of thumbnails, all of them featuring the same, brown door to the bathroom. _Should I?_ _No. No, I shouldn’t._

“Yuuri, look. Victor Nikiforov came by earlier looking for _you_ , okay? Like, that’s just not something he does. He’s usually busy with The Symphonics or recording stuff for his YouTube channel, okay? Well, at least, that I know of.”

 _True,_ Yuuri thinks.

“He probably went to the wrong apartment.”

“I’m pretty sure he watched the video of your performance at the open mic,” Phichit reasons. “I mean, it circulated around CU Confessions. Yuuri, this is no coincidence. Call him back.”

“Stop, just stop,” Yuuri groans, burying his head under his pillow again. His heart is pounding fast. Phichit was right. Why else would Victor Nikiforov look for his apartment? How the hell did he find out where he lived? Why did that person upload that video? More importantly, _who_ uploaded that video?

“You know what? I’ll let you think about it for a little bit. I’m gonna grab some food at the Caf. Want anything?”

Yuuri mumbles a ‘no.’

“I’m gonna put the sticky on the nightstand, okay? Text him. I’ll be back in a bit.” Yuuri hears Phichit walk out of the room and close the door again.

Rolling over, Yuuri hugs his pillow and stares at the ceiling.

Victor Nikiforov, YouTube singing sensation, and three-time ICCA champion, best soloist, and best arranger, took the time to look for him after watching a terrible recording of his open mic performance on a stupid Facebook page. _Him,_ Yuuri Katsuki.

Taking a deep breath, he turns to his nightstand, where the Post-It with Victor’s number is stuck.

_Go for it._

He picks up the Post-It, unlocks his phone, and starts typing--

 **To Victor  
** _Hi, it’s Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki. Thanks for stopping by, I’m sorry I wasn’t home I was just_

“Ugh, no,” Yuuri groaned, quickly tapping the backspace key, tossing his phone to the edge of the bed.  “I can’t do this.”

Memories of his last Symphonics audition come in full-swing - him cracking on the very first note, the huge weight crushing on his chest, the hushed whispers of the previous year’s Symphonic officers, the tears swelling in his eyes; his feet feeling like lead as he dashed out of the room without so much as a goodbye--

Yuuri buries himself under his blankets and falls into a fitful sleep once more.

* * *

The next morning, he rolls out of bed as usual, feeling absolutely exhausted. Blinking blearily, he yawns and makes his way to the bathroom. He peeks into Phichit’s room, and notices that his roommate’s bed was already made.

And then, he hears the peals of laughter coming from the living room. Frowning, he calls out, “Phichit, you didn’t tell me we had guests...oh.”

Victor Nikiforov is sitting on their couch, having coffee with his roommate. Eyes wide, heart beating quick, Yuuri backs up a little bit into the hallway.

Phichit stutters - “Oh, uh, hi, Yuuri, he just came in and wanted to wait until you woke up and--”

“Yuuri!” Victor says, turning around with a smile on his face. “Good morning!”

Before he can stop himself, Yuuri whispers, “Oh, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They say write what you know, and I know collegiate a cappella! This is my first fic in three years, and I've had this AU planned out in general for a different fandom, but never got around to actually writing it. I hope you all enjoy - and I apologize - I had to take a few liberties with some characters' ages.
> 
> Some things:  
> \- AMSA - American Medical Student Association: a pre-medical student organization  
> \- “Alai wah” - “what the fuck?” in Thai  
> \- ICCA - International Championship of Collegiate A Cappella  
> \- Yuuko's Facebook comment basically says: "Yuuri, you're so talented!"
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy this little journey as much as I do. Follow me on Twitter at @yuutopias for little updates + me screaming about YOI.


	2. for the record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri just needs a little push.

Yuuri wonders if the universe is playing a very elaborate joke on him. Finding Victor talking to his roommate in their living room at nine in the morning is one thing, but Victor inviting him to _brunch_ to ‘talk’ is definitely another. It all happens in one, messy blur. Yuuri scrambles to get ready after a quick, quiet argument with Phichit in his room (Victor’s left alone in the living room, confused), and the next thing he knows, he’s in Victor’s Jeep heading downtown to God knows where.

The 20-minute ride downtown is painfully awkward; Yuuri spends most of the time staring determinedly at the road ahead as Victor attempts to initiate a conversation with him.

“I think you’re going to like this place,” he says as he turns into a parking lot. “I go here a lot - they’ve got a great brunch menu and pretty strong WiFi.”

“Ah, really?” Yuuri replies, looking down at his feet.

Victor sighs. “Yeah.” Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri spots a slight look of disappointment on the other man’s face and he feels his stomach drop. “Well, we’re here,” he adds, pointing across the street.

Yuuri looks up spots the tiny cafe, Little Skips.

Victor unlocks the doors. “Shall we?”

Yuuri looks at him and nods.

The two of them get out of the car and start walking across to the entrance.

“Finally,” Victor says, rubbing his hands excitedly. He opens the door. “After you, Yuuri!”

Yuuri steps and marvels at how clean the place is. The first thing he spots is a living garden wall at the opposite end of the cafe - thriving with different green, luscious plants in contrast to the stark-white walls. The rest of the cafe’s walls are decorated with black and white photographs of several beaches near the city. There are a few people sitting at the cafe’s wooden tables, either talking quietly or working on their laptops.

“Welcome to Little Skips!” a barista calls out from behind the counter. “Oh! Hi, Victor.”

“Hey, Anna,” Victor says with a bright smile. He turns to Yuuri. “Go ahead, sit anywhere. I’ll grab us some menus.” Yuuri picks a seat near the living wall, breathing in the fresh, green grass. It sort of reminds him of home, and he smiles a little.

Victor sits down, handing Yuuri a menu. “Here you go! Since it is your first time, you should definitely try either the Eggs Benedict or the salmon bagels. Oh, and the iced chai latte with extra cinnamon is to _die for._ ”

“Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri says taking and reading through at the menu. His eyes widen a little and he gapes at the prices - _This is definitely a triple dollar sign place on Yelp,_ he thinks. “Um. I think I’ll just get a coffee.”

“Nonsense. Don’t worry about paying for anything today. This is on me.”

Yuuri nearly drops his menu. “No, no, Victor - it’s totally fine! I’m okay with just coffee.”

“It’s the least I can do for dragging you out so early,” Victor says apologetically. Sighing, Yuuri picks up the menu again and looks at it nervously, then looks up at Victor who’s smiling at him expectantly. “Seriously. Go ahead. Pick anything.”

Yuuri hesitates. “Hm...a salmon bagel _does_ sound good.”

“It’s  _amazing._ Perfect choice.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says, laughing a little. “Thanks.”

“Like I said, it’s all on me.” Victor stands up, takes their menus and orders their food at the counter. Yuuri takes a deep breath and props his elbow on the table, leaning his head on the palm of his hand. _What on earth is going on?_

He watches Victor talk to the barista so easily, his laugh sounding like little bells as he watches her make their food. Yuuri realizes that he could’ve said no to coming along, but something (besides Phichit demanding him to) inside him, had an inkling that it might be a good idea.

After a few minutes, Victor walks back to their table with a tray of food - much more than Yuuri thought they were getting. Besides Victor’s Eggs Benedict and Yuuri’s smoked salmon bagels, there is a little plate of scones, a small plate with a smattering of different flavors of jam, and two mugs of iced chai lattes.

“Oh, Victor, you didn’t have to--”

“Like I said,” Victor interjects, “My treat.”

The two of them eat quietly.

“You’re right--this bagel is amazing,” Yuuri admits, nodding in approval. Victor’s eyes brighten up.

“I’m glad you like it! Oh! Try the strawberry scone with any of the jams.”

“I will.” Yuuri watches Victor cut his eggs. “Victor, why did you take me out this morning? I mean--not to be rude or anything, I really, really appreciate it, but...why?”

Victor stops cutting, looks him in the eye, and sets his knife and fork aside. “I might as well cut to the chase,” he admits with a sigh. “Yuuri, I watched your video on CU Confessions. I just...I think you should audition for my a cappella group. The Symphonics.”

Yuuri stares at him. “No way.”

“Yes, way,” Victor says eagerly. “I’m so glad I found you. You have a brilliant voice, and clearly you know music because you transposed  _Runnin’_ so that it fits your ideal key. You’re a tenor, right? We need musical minds in our group this year - we lost one of our tenors after he graduated last year, and I need someone who can blend with me and possibly collaborate on arrangements for competitions. What else have you arranged? Have you heard about the ICCAs--?”

It’s all too overwhelming for Yuuri. He sets down his own utensils. “Victor.”

“--It’s an international a cappella competition. The Symphonics compete every year, and we’ve won a few awards in the past, and I think you’d be a great soloist for one of the arrangements I’m putting together. I can work with you. I noticed some very slight technical flubs in your performance video, but nothing too difficult to fix. You sound trained, and I think that after a few workshops we can get your voice back in shape--”

“Victor!” Yuuri says a little too loudly, clearing his throat. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor says, scratching the back of his head, embarrassed. “I just think you’d be an amazing fit.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath. “Thank you, Victor, but I don’t think I’m cut out for a cappella. I tried out for your group last year and didn’t get in.”

“You did?” Victor replies, surprised. “Wait, you didn’t even make it to callbacks? God, I’m going to have a talk with Mila. It was probably a day I couldn’t make it because of class--”

“No, it wasn’t Mila’s fault at all. It was mine,” Yuuri says tightly. Victor goes quiet. “I just...I had a really bad day, and a really bad audition. That’s it. And I’m not auditioning again.”

Victor stares at him. “We always tell people they can try again, Yuuri, it’s not like you audition once, not get in, and never try again.”

“Well, I don’t think I’m trying ever again,” Yuuri retorts stiffly. “I...I just don’t think I’m cut out for it. I’m...I’m gonna stick with open mics and my shower.”

“I think you are wonderful,” Victor says encouragingly, taking Yuuri’s hand. “Yuuri, you’re an incredibly talented performer. Don’t let your talents go to waste. Not that the shower is a waste of singing space, you get really great acoustics in them--”

Yuuri withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry, Victor. I really, really am, but,” his breath hitches a little, “I can’t do it. Thank you for the food, thank you for the ride, I...I’ll figure out another way to get home.” He looks down and feels Victor’s blue eyes piercing right through him.

Yuuri stands up and starts to walk away, but Victor calls to him once more.

“Yuuri? If you change your mind,” he says with a sad smile, “We accept walk-ins. Last day to audition is this Thursday. I hope you reconsider.”

With a softer voice, Victor adds, “Please text me when you get home, I just wanna make sure you get back in one piece.”

This strikes something within Yuuri, and he only nods and says “Thank you,” before walking out the door.

His chest feeling heavy, Yuuri walks around the corner and leans against a brick wall, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. He quickly pulls out his phone and calls Phichit.

“ _Yuuri! What ha--”_

“Phichit, big favor. Can you please pick me up? I’m downtown.”

“ _Wait, aren’t you with--_ ”

“Please? I’ll explain later.”

A pause.

“ _Okay._ ”

“I owe you one.”

“ _You owe me ten, but who’s counting?”_ Phichit jokes. “ _I’ll be there in half an hour. Send me your location_.”

* * *

When Phichit picks him up, he doesn’t ask any questions, and Yuuri is immensely thankful for that. They talk about other things in the car, like their upcoming AMSA meetings, genetics homework, and everything else under the sun. Once they get home, Phichit leaves to help set up for Vocal Point auditions, leaving Yuuri alone in the apartment.

Yuuri hesitates, but texts Victor as soon as he settles down in his room.

Yuuri Katsuki (12:02 PM)  
>> _Hi Victor. It’s Yuuri Katsuki. Just wanted to let you know I got home okay._

He takes a deep breath and adds:

Yuuri Katsuki (12:03 PM)  
_ >>I’m sorry. I really, really am. Thanks for brunch. _

Yuuri puts his phone face-down on his dresser, and it dings five minutes later.

Victor Nikiforov (12:08 PM)  
_> >thanks for letting me know!!! i appreciate it. & it’s no problem at all._

Another ding.

Victor Nikiforov (12:09 PM)  
_> >for the record, i think you’re incredibly talented. that’s all. have a great day yuuri!_

The text is followed by a string of smiley-faced emojis. Yuuri smiles.

Yuuri Katsuki (12:11 PM)  
_ >>Thank you. And you too! _

He ends their conversation there. Yuuri puts his phone back down on his nightstand and takes out his biology textbook. He still feels incredibly guilty, but reading those words - _I think you’re incredibly talented_ \- makes his heart leap.

He starts humming a song he’d heard play quietly in Victor’s car, and gets started on his homework.

* * *

Yuuri’s glad that there’s a piano room in his building, and that it’s empty for a Sunday night. He’d practice back at his and Phichit’s apartment, but he didn’t want to risk getting a noise complaint this late at night. He rests his fingers on the ivory keys, tracing them slowly, and begins to play a piece he learned as a kid. He couldn’t remember the title, but it was a very simple tune from one of his intermediate workbooks.

He thinks about brunch earlier that day, the look on Victor's face as he walked out of Little Skips, and his video circulating around City University, and it all ends up one big flurry in his brain. He misses a note on the piano and sighs, laying his cheek on the keys, a gross-sounding chord emitting from it. 

He stays in that position for a good few minutes until they keys start to shift and pinch his cheeks, and he sits up, scrolling through his phone. He's got a notification from Facebook:  _You have memories with Yuuko Nishigori, Phichit Chulanont, and Takeshi Nishigori to look back on today._

Curious, he opens it up and the first thing he sees is an old photo from the early 2000s that his mother took of him and his childhood friend, Yuuko, at the first voice recital they performed at together. Yuuko had posted that photo for Throwback Thursday two years ago.

Yuuri had been seven at the time - and it was his very first time singing in front of a relatively large group of people. It was six months into his voice lessons at Minako-sensei’s music school back home in Hasetsu. He was to perform “Furusato” with Yuuko and another one of Minako’s students, but the third student pulled out because they wanted to perform by himself. The day of, Yuuri had been incredibly nervous - but overall, it had been a cute and successful performance.

He misses home with every fiber of his being. It had been years since he’d gone back to Hasetsu - he left to board at an international school in Tokyo for his last three years of high school, and since getting into college, he’d only been back home twice for summer breaks. The one after he graduated from high school, and last summer.

He flips through the comments.

 **Yuuko Nishigori**  
_You look happier here than in most of your pictures now Yuuri!_

He stares at it, and then scrolls back to the photo. 

He did look happier.

Yuuri locks his phone, sets it on the bench, inhales deeply, and tries to play the sonata from memory again.

_I think you're incredibly talented._

The words ring in his head again, and Yuuri decides to finish the song, pack up, and walk back to his apartment. 

He's got a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

 **Tuesday** **Afternoon**

Yuuri's scrambling to find a seat at the library; his laptop is open to a timed take-home quiz. Panicking, he sets his laptop down at the closest empty spot on the first floor and quickly answers all of the questions. _Thank god for multiple choice_ , he thinks, breathing a sigh of relief when he clicks submit and sits down to relax.  
  
He hears someone clear their throat. Yuuri looks up and sees Victor sitting right across from him, looking amused.  
  
"O-oh, Victor! Shit, I mean--I'm sorry, I should've asked if this seat was open first before..." he whispers, quickly standing up.  
  
"Wait! Don't leave," Victor whispers back, standing to stop him. "Don't worry about it, it was definitely open. Let me guess: timed quiz?"  
  
Yuuri nods and sinks back into the chair hesitantly, rubbing his temples with his hands. "The wi-fi in our apartment shut off--you know, shitty campus wi-fi, so I had to make a run for it."  
  
"Understandable."  
  
Victor goes back to work on his laptop and pops an earbud in one ear.  
  
Curious, Yuuri sits up. "What...what are you working on, if you don't mind me asking?"  
  
"I'm going over the callbacks song for this weekend," Victor replies. "I'd show you, but I can't," he adds apologetically.  
  
_Because I'm not auditioning and therefore not getting called back,_ Yuuri thinks guiltily.  
  
"Victor, I just wanted to..."  
  
"I know." Victor interrupts, taking his earbud out. "You don't have to say it."  
  
Yuuri stares at him. "Victor, why are you being so nice to me? I was, frankly, a jerk on Sunday."  
  
"You said how you felt, and I was being a bit pushy," Victor admits. "But I stand by what I said."  
  
"And thank you for that."  
  
Victor nods. "No need to thank me for stating the obvious."

The two of them smile at each other and go back to work on their respective assignments in comfortable silence. Yuuri peers up at Victor discreetly, and back at his computer where his browser is open to The Symphonics’ audition schedule.

* * *

**Wednesday, 6:05PM**

Yuuri stares at the blank Symphonics audition form he’d tacked to his corkboard, arms folded. It looks completely harmless and asks basic questions (musical experience and ability, favorite snack, availability for rehearsals), but he couldn’t bring himself to fill it out after printing it the night before.

 _What the hell am I going to sing?_ He rubs his temple in frustration, tapping his pen against his bedframe swiftly. He’d planned to walk over to the Music Building at 7:30PM, about an hour before the Symphonics ended today, but the stress of not knowing what to sing ate at him.

He runs through every song he knows, goes through his iPod playlists over and over again, but to no avail, nothing seems _right._

“You know what sucks? Sitting through five hours straight of listening to tone-deaf people. And this was the fourth day of that,” Phichit complains as he walks in and plops onto the edge of Yuuri’s bed. “Like, why do people waste time allowing those who _can’t_ sing go through life thinking they can?”

Yuuri freezes in place, nearly dropping his pen, his eyes flitting between Phichit and The Symphonics form.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” Yuuri says, laughing nervously, getting up and pretending to rummage through his desk. “Was it really that bad?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Phichit says emphatically. “Okay, no, not _that_ bad. There was one person who was really good. A freshman. I think his name was Yuri, too. I heard he’s trying out for other groups, too. God, he was so good. He sang a Panic! At The Disco song.”

“I see,” Yuuri says, standing in front of his corkboard.

Phichit sits up. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” His voice comes out slightly panicked.

“You’re hiding something.”

“Am not.”

“Yuuri, move,” Phichit says, trying not to laugh. “I’m sure whatever you hung up isn’t creepy at all--wait a second.”

“What?”

“Are you—?”

“Am I what?”

“Yuuri. _That’s a Symphonics audition form._ ”

Yuuri lifts his arms and a leg up in an attempt to block his corkboard. “No, it’s not.”

“Excuse me, I know what the form looks like. I filled one out two years ago. Are you actually _auditioning_?”

Yuuri sighs and gives up, sliding down against the wall and onto the floor. “Yes.”

Phichit snorts. “You could’ve just told me.”

“Please help me pick a song.”

“You know I can’t do that!” Phichit exclaims, throwing a pillow at him. “Song choice is sacred, in my opinion. You’ve got to sing something that resonates with you. Also, screw you. You should be auditioning for Vocal Point, too.”

Yuuri freezes. He hadn’t considered Phichit’s group—they were also one of the best groups on campus, though not as nationally-known as The Symphonics. Vocal Point also had a bunch of people that he actually knew.

“I’m sorry, Phichit, I didn’t realize—” he stutters.

“I mean, it’s not like you ripped my heart out and stomped on it,” Phichit jokes. “I say if you’re going to audition for The Symphonics, you should try out for other groups, too. At least one more. At least Vocal Point. You’ll have a choice in the end when you do.”

Yuuri looks up at the form tacked to the board behind him, and back at Phichit. He remembered that he was supposed to audition for Vocal Point last year, but after The Symphonics fiasco, he wrote off a cappella completely.

“Okay. Actually...are you all still holding auditions tonight?”

“Duh. Until...ten I think? I’m taking a break. Like I said, listening to people sing for five hours straight without a bathroom break is actually hell. We had a huge rush of folks come in this afternoon because tomorrow’s the last day. Wait, do you know what you’re singing now? Are you coming in tonight?”

Yuuri bites his lip and blurts out, “‘I Can’t Make You Love Me.’”

“What?” Phichit snorts. “Yuuri, you’re my best friend, of course I lo—”

“No. ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me.’ The song.”

A lightbulb goes off in Phichit’s head. “That’s perfect. That’s—that’s a hard song, but that’s _perfect._ Honestly, I thought you’d written it off completely after…”

“...after  _him_ , right?” Yuuri mutters. Phichit nods. “Well...I’m going to give it a try. Where are Vocal Point auditions being held tonight?”

“Student Union, Governance Chambers. Wait, you’re going right now? Hold up, I’m coming with you,” Phichit exclaims, standing up. “My ears need to be cleansed after this afternoon.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“You’re doing it!”

Yuuri grabs his HydroFlask full of lemon water off his desk, and follows Phichit out the door.

“Okay, I don’t think I can do this,” Yuuri groans when they finally reach the Student Union.

“Don’t you dare chicken out on me now,” Phichit says accusingly, waving a finger at him. “You’re not in warmup mode anymore, Yuuri. It’s go-time. I’ll be in the room, so just relax.”

“I’ve made a mistake; we’re going back,” Yuuri says, promptly turning around when he spots a Vocal Point audition sign. “I’ll just go back to singing at The Peak once in awhile. Better?”

Phichit grabs his arm and yanks him up the stairs. “Not better. Let’s go!”

Yuuri can’t help but let Phichit take him.

They finally make it to the fourth floor Governance Chambers and first walk to the room next door, where Phichit’s friend and fellow Vocal Point member, Leo de Iglesia is hanging out alone and making a massive pyramid out of a Cards Against Humanity deck.

“Leo!” Yuuri says, waving. Leo jumps and the pyramid collapses.

“Damn it,” Leo mutters. He smiles up at Yuuri. “Hey! Wow, you’re actually auditioning? I’d say your YouTube video is good enough. You’re in the group.”

“I’m just—” Yuuri begins, but Phichit cuts him off.

“He’s auditioning! For us, and _them_ ,” he says.

Leo’s eyes flit between Yuuri and Phichit. “Oh! Well, welcome to our meet-and-greet room, Yuuri! We’ve got tea in that corner, board games here, and snacks over there. Sorry it’s not poppin’. The big evening rush just ended.”

Phichit grabs an audition form and hands it to Yuuri, who [ starts filling it out](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/C7O4IoaU4AAAn1G.jpg).

“I’m gonna check on Mickey and Sara,” Phichit says, quickly rushing to the room next door.

“Have you guys always had a meet and greet room?” Yuuri asks when he finishes filling his form out. Leo nods.

“Yep! We think it’s better for people to relax before walking into the Thunderdome. Not that auditions are like the actual Thunderdome full of death and destruction, but you know what I mean,” he replies as he skillfully re-assembles his card pyramid.

“I see.”

In no time, Phichit walks back into the room. “They’re ready for you now!”

Yuuri wants nothing more than to melt into the floor. “Okay,” he says anxiously, walking over to the door. Leo gives him an encouraging thumbs-up as he follows Phichit out and into the room next door.

Phichit takes a seat next to the Crispino Twins, Sara and Mickey. A keyboard sits atop the table where the three of them sit, and a music stand had been set a few feet away from it.

“Yuuri, thanks so much for stopping by! We were hoping Phichit could convince you to come in,” Sara says. “You know who we are already, but just for logistics’ sake, I’m Sara Crispino, music director of Vocal Point.”

Micky slouches in his seat, eyebrows furrowed at Yuuri suspiciously. “Michele Crispino, President.”

“Phichit Chulanont, the best friend in the entire world and just a mere member.”

Sara and Yuuri laugh. “Okay, okay,” Mickey says. “Show us what you’ve got, CU Confessions Boy.”

Yuuri abruptly stops laughing.

Sara whacks Mickey’s arm. “Stop acting like you don’t know him,” she snaps, rolling her eyes. “Sorry about that, Yuuri.”

“What? I’m just trying to put on a facade,” Mickey shrugs, bursting into laughter.

“Well, it’s not working. Anyway,” Sara says excitedly, playing a few chords on the keyboard. “We’re going to start with some scales to test your range. Please sing on an ‘oo.’”

Yuuri nods, and takes a deep breath, feeling a little more relaxed as he begins to sing his scales.

The rest of the audition goes on; Yuuri’s asked to do sight-reading and rhythm tests, and his audition song goes...surprisingly well. He hadn’t sung ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me’ in a while, and he definitely felt rusty, especially on a few runs.

When he finishes the song, he notices Phichit trying his best not to clap, Sara staring at him determinedly, and Mickey slowly nodding in approval.

“That was outstanding, Yuuri!” Sara squeals. “Okay, so our callbacks list comes out via e-mail tomorrow night before midnight. Our callbacks are at 1PM on Saturday in Friar’s Hall 220—so just keep an eye out for more details!”

Yuuri stays a few more minutes to just talk to Sara and Mickey, and he and Phichit leave the room together.

“Holy crap.”

“How did I do? I know I messed up a few of the runs; I didn’t hit the notes I wanted to hit—”

“—Yuuri, shut up. You were amazing,” Phichit says, giving him a hug before they walk down the stairs. “I’m proud of you. And thanks for auditioning for us.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, looking down and smiling. “I...that felt really good. And no problem, I was going to last year, but, you know.”

“This is going to be your year, my friend,” Phichit grins. “One more audition, then callbacks—don’t give me that look, you’re definitely getting called back for both groups.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath. “Okay. I hope so. And Phichit?”

“Yeah?”

He wrings his hands. “Thanks for making me get off my ass. Also, you were right. It's important that I have a choice.”

Phichit stops, beams at his friend, and pats his back.

“What are best friends for? Now, we’ve got to plan your attack for tomorrow. Part of me might hate The Symphonics by principle, but if you like them, then I guess I should help you out a bit, artist to artist.”

* * *

**Thursday**

Phichit Chulanont (4:36 PM)  
_> >DONT CHICKEN OUT_  
_ >>YUUUUUUURRRRRRIIII_  
_ >>do as we planned. u walk in at 4:45PM. put your form in the box. wait ur turn. Do not ducking leave._  
_ >>FUCKING******_  
_ >>god damn i hate auto-correct why do iphones do this  
>>anyway you better be at the music building rn_

Yuuri Katsuki (4:39 PM)  
_> >Thanks, Phichit._  
_ >>also you can turn off autocorrect in settings, lol.  
>>and I’m here already _

Phichit Chulanont (4:40 PM)  
_> >good ok thanks_  
 _ >>wait  
>>how do you say ‘good luck’ in japanese again_

Yuuri Katsuki (4:41 PM)  
_ >>ganbatte?????? _

Phichit Chulanont (4:42 PM)  
_ >>GANBATTEEEEEEEEEEEEEE _

Yuuri looks up at the familiar sign, Room 231b, and feels his stomach knot a little bit as he clutches his audition form. There’s a group of four people waiting and warming-up quietly. He places his form in the small basket by the door and sits down.

“Hi,” the girl next to him asks, smiling. Yuuri nods at her in acknowledgment.

This all feels way too familiar. He starts feeling his heart racing and his breaths catching in his throat, but he takes a large swig of water and exhales deeply.

“Are you okay?” she asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine, sorry, just a little nervous,” Yuuri replies. He sips at his water again. “I’m Yuuri,” he says, holding a hand out.

She shakes it. “Katarina. And no need to be nervous. They’re all super nice. My sister’s this year’s president, so I’d know.”

“Oh, you’re Mila’s sister?” Yuuri blurts out.

“Yeah. She made me audition. I’m a first year.”

“Third year. Major?”

“Electrical engineering.”

“Biology.”

“The arts and STEM, a match made in heaven,” Katarina says happily. “How do you know Mila? Besides from all her e-mails about auditions and stuff?”

“I auditioned last year, too, but I had a bad day and ducked out,” Yuuri admits, laughing nervously. He clutches his HydroFlask tightly. “Kinda decided on a whim to try again this year.”

“I’m sure you’ll do we—wait. You look really familiar,” she says, peering at him suspiciously. “Wait, are you CU Confessions Boy?”

“Wait, what?” Yuuri says, almost spitting out his water. “Oh, that thing? Uh. I..guess?”

Her eyes light up. “Oh my god, you’re great! Mila kept texting me about you the day the video came out.”

Yuuri blinks. “Good things, I hope?”

“Only good things,” Katarina says encouragingly.

The door to 231b creaks open, and a hand reaches out to grab an audition form from the basket. Mila’s familiar voice calls out, “Katarina Babicheva?”

“Well, that’s me,” she says, giving him a small smile. She stands up and shakes Yuuri’s hand once more. “It was nice talking to you, Confessions Boy. Hope to see you at callbacks.”

“You, too,” Yuuri nods. He watches as she greets her sister and walks into the room. The door shuts once more, and Yuuri’s left alone with three other people outside of the room.

At this point last year, he’d been on the verge of a breakdown. This time, he still felt the familiar pangs of nervousness that came with auditioning for pretty much anything, but he felt calmer. Ready to go.

He pulls up the lyrics to his audition song, and quickly goes over them.

Victor’s words from the other day ring in his head: _You’re incredibly talented._

And, when Mila opens the door half an hour later and calls his name, he stands up, inhales, exhales, and walks into the room.

The first person he sees is Victor, who nearly spits out his water when he sees Yuuri. Yuuri smiles sheepishly and waves as he puts his bag down and stands in the center.

He waits a few seconds as Mila takes her seat and circulates his audition form around the table.

Victor is still staring at him.

“Yuuri,” Mila says. “You’re back!”

Yuuri tears his eyes away from Victor. “Um—yeah! Hi.”

“Well, we’re just gonna go around and introduce ourselves. You know me, I’m Mila Babicheva. President.”

“Christophe Giacometti, co-music director,” Christophe says, winking at him. Yuuri flushes pink.

Victor clears his throat and shuffles some papers around. “Victor Nikiforov. Co-music director. Welcome to Symphonics auditions.”

Yuuri can’t help but notice Mila and Christophe glance at Victor confusedly as he sits ramrod straight, pen in hand, ready to go.

“So, protocol again: do you mind if we record your audition?” Mila asks. Yuuri shakes his head. “Okay, good. Victor, piano, please?”

“Oh, yeah,” Victor stands up a little too quickly and walks over to the bench of the upright piano on the side of the room.

Yuuri looks at him, and he nods, smiling.

“Yuuri, I’m going to play a few scales, okay? Sing on any syllable you feel comfortable with.”

The scales go smoothly. He feels everyone’s eyes on him as he goes higher on the scale, and he abruptly stops once he reaches his peak in the falsetto range.

“That was excellent,” Christophe nods in approval. Yuuri watches as they all scribble down notes.

The rest of the first part of the audition goes smoothly — Yuuri nearly aces his sight-singing test (he flubs a single note, but manages to recover), and passes his rhythm test with flying colors.

Victor makes his way back to the main table with the rest of the board as they move on to the final segment.

“So it says here on your audition sheet that you’re going to sing ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me’ by Bonnie Raitt,” Christophe says, looking at Yuuri’s audition sheet. “I have to say, that’s a beautiful and challenging song.”

Yuuri nods.

Victor stares at him, folding his hands under his chin. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Yuuri picks up his HydroFlask, takes a quick swig of water, and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

When he starts to sing, his tone wavers slightly with nerves. Shaking them off, he pushes on, feeling every word of the song — remembering why he’d chosen it.

When he finishes, the room is blanketed in silence.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Mila says breathlessly, clapping her hands together. “I just…wow. Okay. Um. A few things — standard procedure. Wow.”

“I can take over,” Christophe cuts in jokingly. Mila waves her hand at him.

“Okay. So, the callbacks list comes out later tonight at 11:59PM. Our callbacks will be held this Saturday, bright and early at 9AM. If you do get called back,” she says with a grin, “you’ll be sent the sheet music you’ll need to look through before then. I think that’s it. Do you have any questions for us?”

He shakes his head quickly. “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Well, then, thank you so much for coming in!” she says. “We loved your YouTube video, by the way.”

Yuuri blushes. “Thank you.”

Yuuri walks over to the table and shakes everyone’s hands. When he reaches Victor, their eyes linger on each other for a brief second before he realizes that they’re holding on a little longer than they should. He quickly says one more goodbye before dashing out of the room.

Heart swelling with pride, he runs happily back to his apartment.

Right as he unlocks the front door to their apartment, he gets a text.

 _Victor Nikiforov (8:30 PM)  
_ _ >>that…was beautiful. _

He laughs breathlessly, and plops down on his bed, still stunned.

 _I did it_ , he thinks. _I really did it._

* * *

Later that night, he receives two e-mails at 11:59 PM on the dot.

 **CU Vocal Point** \- _Fall 2015 Callbacks List_

 **The CU Symphonics** \- _Official Callbacks List_

He right-clicks both of them, and opens them in two different tabs.

_Hi, everyone!_

_Thank you all so much for coming in over the past week. We truly enjoyed listening to all of your solos and getting to know you all, even just a little bit. We’re truly sorry to those we couldn’t call back: we encourage you to try again next year._

_We now present the official Vocal Point Fall 2015 callbacks list below:_

Yuuri’s eyes scan down to the men’s list.

_Gentlemen:_

_Yuri Plisetsky (T)_  
Otabek Altin (Bari/Bass/VP)  
Seung-Gil Lee (Bari/Bass)  
Guang-Hong Ji (T)  
Emil Nekola (Bari)  
Yuuri Katsuki (T)

He silently cheers. He reads through the rest of the callbacks information for Vocal Point, and then, hands shaking, he opens the tab with the Symphonics list.

_Dear Auditionees,_

_We’d like to formally thank everyone who auditioned for The Symphonics (CU’s premier a cappella group) this year. We had over 110 individuals come in to showcase their talents. However, we could only call back a few people this time around. Please do not let this discourage you from trying again next year._

_And now, without further ado, here is our callbacks list:_

Yuuri scans the list — Katarina was called back as an alto. Heart racing fast, he finally reaches the tenor list, and then, he sees it:

Tenors  
_Yuri Plisetsky  
_ _Yuuri Katsuki_

He cups his mouth with his hands, barely containing the smile spreading across his face, and he laughs.

_One step closer._

He prints out the sheet music for both groups, highlights his parts, and goes to bed, determined to learn both songs by Saturday.

* * *

Yuuri Katsuki (12:30 AM)  
_> >I know it’s late and I’m so sorry but I just wanted to say thank you._

Victor Nikiforov (12:31 AM)  
_ >>it was all you, yuuri. see you on saturday, bright and early! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaand there you have it, chapter two! i'm so sorry it took so long. i've had a very busy march so far—went out of state for a little bit for a short vacation, followed by my birthday, and a bunch of Adult Life Things. i hope you enjoyed this chapter. things are going to start moving a little faster after callbacks and audition results. 
> 
> if you want to check out the songs and performances that inspired this fic, check out the playlist [here on youtube](https://youtu.be/-9y69j5YP3Q?list=PLG0iU0C0FPc0deYQMSe8z8sqiNK63y-xZ). the group i was in throughout college is in there somewhere. y'all can play around and guess which group i was in. HAVE FUN
> 
> anyway, WHERE WILL YUURI END UP?! this and more in the next chapter. 
> 
> hang out with me on [tumblr](http://www.han-leia.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/yuutopias)!


	3. don't cry over spilled tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for callbacks, and another Yuri shows up to stir the pot.

Yuuri has hot tea in his lap.

Literally, in his lap.

He rips off his jeans at the speed of light, yelping loudly as he throws them in a corner, and picks up his fallen mug, which miraculously didn’t break when dropped. Groaning loudly, he rushes back to his closet and yanks another pair off a hanger and pulls them on, buttoning them quickly.

“Crap,” he mutters as he grabs his fallen pants once more to mop up his mess. He’d have to let the rest of it dry on the carpet.

“Yuuri, are you okay— _holy shit_ ,” Phichit whistles, walking in and leaning against Yuuri’s door, clutching his own mug of tea in his own hands. “You’re going to be late, you know.”

Yuuri takes his mini fan off his desk and plugs it in, positioning it towards the wet spot on the carpet. “I know, I know.” He stands up, lets out a big sigh, and yanks his bag off its hook, moving sideways to run past his roommate.

“You’re going to be amazing!” Phichit yells after him as he laces his shoes. “Just breathe, relax, and don’t forget to blend! Go, run, I’ll lock the door behind you! See you later!”

“Bye!” Yuuri yells back as he dashes out the door.

Yuuri runs down the stairs of the apartment building, jumping and skipping steps as he dashes across campus. _What a way to start today of all days,_ he thinks angrily to himself. His alarm hadn’t gone off, and he only had thirty minutes to get ready - and ten minutes were wasted worrying about spilled honey-lemon tea. At this point, he only had seven minutes to make a typically fifteen to twenty minute trek across campus to the Angelou Center for The Symphonics callbacks.

He’d practiced both of his callbacks pieces all night, spending half of it in his own apartment, and the rest in the (thankfully soundproof) piano room. Phichit helped him run his Vocal Point piece, a short, choral version of Simon & Garfunkel’s _Sound of Silence_ (which was arranged by Sara) multiple times. The Symphonics piece, however, was a beast to be reckoned with.

Victor and Christophe had tasked those who were called back with learning a particularly tricky arrangement of Imogen Heap’s _Hide and Seek_ (Victor’s arrangement). Yuuri had a difficult time locking into the chords as he practiced, slamming his hands on the piano keys in frustration multiple times throughout the night as he tried to play along with the MIDI tracks Mila provided in her e-mail.

But, after a few hours of internally cursing Victor, regretting it, and then taking it all back, he finally got the hang of the piece.

 _It’s all going to be for nothing if I don’t get there on time_ , he grits his teeth and checks his watch as he forces his legs to move faster.

50 seconds.

35 seconds.

20 seconds.

15—and—

He pushes the door of Green Room 342 open, and nearly collapses, clinging to the doorframe for support as he coughs loudly. A few people stare at him as he pulls his water bottle out of his backpack, chugging his lemon water for dear life, and makes his way to the sign-in table to pick up his name tag.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri looks up and spots Victor walking towards him, dressed up in a white, buttoned-down shirt and casual dark blue slacks. He’s wearing a neat, handwritten name tag that says: ‘Hi, I’m Victor!’ with the words ‘co-music director’ written below in all-caps. Yuuri blinks and waves anxiously as he puts his own name tag on.

“H-hi,” he pants. “Sorry, I woke up late, and I just—”

Victor folds his arms and smiles. “What matters is that you made it. Go relax. We’re still waiting for a few people to arrive, so we’re going to start at 9:15 instead.”

Thankful, Yuuri nods, and without another word, hurries to the bathroom. He lets the sink run a little, sets his glasses on the counter, and splashes some water on his face. He grips both sides of the sink and looks at himself in the mirror.

_You can do this._

_You can do this._

_You can—_

The door to the bathroom opens, and a young, long-haired blond steps in and pulls off his hood to look at him.

“So you’re the other Yuri auditioning?” the other boy scoffs. “I saw your name on the sign-in sheet.”

Confused, Yuuri frowns. “Um. Yes?”

“Huh,” he says, amused.

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “Wait. I remember you,” he says, frowning. “You’re the kid who was rude when I asked about—“

“—who was performing at the welcome concert. Yeah. I don’t forget a fucking face, either, and don’t call me ‘kid,’” Yuri Plisetsky says, rolling his eyes. “So you’re a tenor too?”

“Yes,” Yuuri replies, taking a deep breath, unsure where Yuri is going with this. “We’re the only tenors called back today.”

“Exactly,” Yuri mutters, clearly irritated. He turns on his heel and walks out the door, presumably back to the Green Room.

Confused, Yuuri scratches his head and frowns as he takes another deep breath and attempts to relax a little before walking back to the room. When his watch hits 9:10, he heads back, and sees everyone mingling about. Yuri Plisetsky is talking to Georgi Popovich in a corner, and he spots Katarina chatting with her sister by the water table.

“Welcome,” a voice whispers in Yuuri’s ear, making him jump. He turns around to see Christophe, also dressed as impeccably as Victor. “Jumpy this morning, aren’t we?”

“S-sorry,” Yuuri breathes, clutching his water bottle tightly. “Sorry. I’m just—”

“Pre-callbacks jitters?” Christophe cuts him off, smiling. “Don’t worry. Just relax. Be yourself. And listen. Blend with Vitya.”

“Huh?” Yuuri says, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Christophe winks and walks away to talk to another one of his co-members. _Jeez_ , he thinks as he takes a seat.

“Alright, good morning, everyone!” Victor’s voice rings throughout the room. Everyone turns to face the front, where the members of The Symphonics are gathering, all dressed to the nines.

Mila continues: “Welcome to Symphonics callbacks. There are fifteen of you here today, but only a few of you will be joining us this year as full-fledged members. We hope you managed to take a look at the sheet music because we’ll be focusing on octets and quartets for most of the callbacks today. You don’t necessarily have to be off-book, but we recommend it if you want to _really_ listen to everyone. Okay, before we get into more logistics, we’re going to go around and introduce ourselves. Everyone, say your name, year, major, and singing part if you’re confident! Let’s start with our current members. I’m Mila Babicheva. I’m a senior, and a mezzo-soprano majoring in Business with a minor in visual arts.”

She motions towards Victor, who steps up and waves. “I’m Victor Nikiforov, co-music director and tenor. Fourth year, double-majoring in music business and production.”

Yuuri can feel Victor’s eyes on him from across the room.

“Christophe Giacometti, co-music director and baritone. Third year, majoring in European History with a minor in Theatre.”

“Georgi Popovich, vice-president-slash-performance director, bass, fourth year, and Economics major.”

After the rest of the Symphonics introduce themselves (he recognizes one or two of them from his first year classes), the first callbackee to talk is—

“Katarina Babicheva. First year, majoring in electrical engineering. Alto.”

And then: “Yuri Plisetsky, tenor. First year, undeclared, but planning to major in music composition.”

After a few more people, it’s finally Yuuri’s turn. He stands up, takes a deep breath. “Yuuri Katsuki. Third year, majoring in general biology. I’m, um, a tenor.”

Yuuri notices Christophe give Victor a look, and Victor less-than-subtly swats at his friend. Everyone applauds as Yuuri takes his seat.

“Now that’s settled, we’re going to start off by splitting you all up into your sections. Just go according to the parts we assigned you in the e-mail I sent out,” Mila announces. “You’ll all be working with your section leaders and other Symphonics members.”

Victor waves at both Yuuri and Yuri, gesturing for them to join him and another member at back of the room. When the four of them gather, they settle in the back corner of the room, pencils and sheet music out.

“Wow, I get to work with two Yuris today,” Victor says excitedly.

Yuri Plisetsky rolls his eyes, and Yuuri laughs nervously, clutching his sheet music a little too tightly.

“First off, I want to introduce you to Cao Bin - he’s our other tenor,” Victor adds. Cao waves.

“Nice to meet you both.” He shakes both Yuuri and Yuri’s hands.

Victor claps his hands. “Alright, so I’m going to play our starting note on the pitch pipe, then we’ll go through the tenor parts together.”

Victor takes his phone out, opens up a pitch app, and holds the speakers up for both Yuuri and Yuri to hear. After counting in, the three of them start singing.

To Yuuri’s surprise, the four of them blend extremely well together. When they finish their first round, Victor’s expression changes — he looks at both of them curiously.

“Hm. Okay. You two pretty much have the piece down, note and rhythm-wise. However, Yuuri—Katsuki, that is—you can definitely work on your phrasing a bit more in the middle section. Try to take less obvious breaths.”

Yuuri inhales sharply and nods, feeling tense. He notices Plisetsky frowning at him over his sheet music out of the corner of his eye, and he begins to tap his pencil against his thigh anxiously.

They run the piece a few more times. Yuuri becomes hyper-aware of his breathing techniques and misses a few notes during their sixth run.

“What’s wrong with you?” Plisetsky asks, annoyed. “You were doing just fine earlier.”

“Now, now, Yuri,” Victor chastises. “I think we should take a short break,” he adds, looking at his watch. “We’ll be breaking into octets soon, anyway.”

Victor stretches, and pats both Yuuri and Yuri’s shoulders as he walks to the other side of the room to check on other sections. Cao nods and walks off to refill his water bottle.

“What the hell was that?” Plisetsky asks again, standing in front of Yuuri, arms folded.

Yuuri shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it. We’ve got to blend, you idiot.”

“Hey, don’t call me that—“

Plisetsky sighs loudly. “Okay. Fine. I won’t call you that. Come on, Victor and Cao are walking around, let’s practice.”

“Wh-what?” Yuuri says, looking up confusedly.

“Let’s. Practice,” Yuri says again through gritted teeth. “You and I are going to be stuck together for the next few hours because we’ve got Vocal Point callbacks later, too.”

“Okay,” Yuuri replies, smiling a little. Plisetsky rolls his eyes.

The two of them run through the piece three more times before Victor completes his rounds.

“Ah, what are you both up to?”

“ _Nothing,”_ they both reply at the same time, looking away from each other and taking notes on their sheet music.

Victor hums. “You two can go ahead and sit down. We’re going to start octets soon.”

Yuuri avoids Victor’s gaze as he takes a seat again. Victor and Christophe head to the front of the room and scan the group.

“Alright! Everyone go ahead and take a seat,” Christophe announces. “We’re going to be breaking up into octets. There will be one Symphonic and one auditionee on each part. You will all perform the piece, and we may call you up multiple times. But that doesn’t mean anything other than the fact that we just want to hear you again.”

Yuuri suppresses a gulp and feels himself tense up.

Christophe announces the pairs: Ketty from the Symphonics with a girl named Anna, Mila and Jane on mezzo, Laura and Katarina on alto, and then…

“Tenors, let’s have…Cao and Yuuri, baritones, me and…Seung-gil Lee, and then, Georgi and Otabek Altin on bass.”

Yuuri stands up almost immediately, nearly falling off his chair as he makes his way down to the front. He feels all eyes on him and clutches his sheet music tightly as he lines up next to Cao, who gives him an encouraging smile.

Victor stands up front, plays the opening chord, and counts them all in.

The first run goes surprisingly well. On the next round, he switches out with Yuri Plisetsky, and immediately gets nervous when he hears how well he blends with Cao.

After a few switches, Yuuri is finally paired with Victor.

“Ready?” Victor asks.

“I guess?” Yuuri replies.

Christophe counts them in, and they all sing. Yuuri can’t help but occasionally glance at Victor singing next to him.

Minutes later, after switching out with Yuri, Victor knocks the groups down to just those who are auditioning, and Yuuri’s in the first group with Anna, Jane, Katarina, Seung-gil, and Otabek. They struggle a little at first, but find their blend midway through the piece.

Throughout the entire process, Yuri and Yuuri are both called back up multiple times to sing with different groups of people. Yuuri feels as if he could cut the tension in the room like a knife. Victor and Cao look visibly stressed every time either one of them goes up to sing.

After what seems like forever, it’s all finally over.

“Wow,” Victor says to the group, “Thank you so much for waking up this early to come to callbacks. I know some of you have other ones to go to later today, so we’re not going to keep you that long.”

Mila stands up next to him. “All of the campus groups will be calling with acceptances tomorrow at six P.M. on the dot. It may take some time because we all have multiple people to call. If you have a study session or another org meeting at that time, please let us know ASAP so that we can just text you.”

“Thanks for coming today,” Christophe adds. “Looking forward to seeing new faces in the group soon!”

Everyone packs up their things and mingle for a little bit. Yuuri catches Yuri hurry out of the room and frowns.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri turns around and nearly whacks Victor with his backpack. “Oh my god, I’m so—I’m so sorry, I just—”

“No, no, don’t worry,” Victor chuckles. “I just wanted to say…good job today.”

Yuuri nearly drops his backpack, but Victor catches it. “Oh! Um…thank you? Thank you. Thanks.”

They both laugh.

“Well, I hope…I hope I get to sing with you all this year,” Yuuri says, measured.

Victor smiles. “I do, too. We’ve got to deliberate now.”

“That’s right,” Yuuri says, clutching his backpack straps. “Well…um…”

“Bye.”

“See ya,” Yuuri says, awkwardly saluting as he backs up and walks out of the room, face flushed pink.

* * *

The Student Union is nearly empty when Yuuri walks in and takes a seat in the food court. He pulls out his sheet music for _Sound of Silence_ and opens up the piano app on his phone, playing along while humming.

“Psst.”

Yuuri turns around and sees Phichit standing behind him, dressed up in a white, short-sleeved dress shirt, black, wide-brimmed hat, and formal-looking black culottes.

“Wow, you look fancy.”

“This is my intimidation outfit, only reserved for callbacks,” Phichit says, spinning around in jest before taking a seat. “Just kidding. How were Symphonics callbacks?”

“Sorta hellish,” Yuuri admits, picking at the edge of his sheet music. “I almost choked during sectionals.”

“I’m sure you were fine.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Whatever. How was that other Yuri? Pli…?”

“Plisetsky?”

“Yeah.”

Yuuri shrugs. “He was good. Blended really well with Cao and Victor.”

“Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Phichit!”

“What? Can’t I be a supportive friend?” Phichit pouts. “Anyway, the more you run through that piece, the more you’ll panic. So stop looking at it.”

Yuuri shoves his sheet music back into his bag. “There. Gone.”

“Good. Well, I’ve gotta head back up. I just wanted to say hi. I was with Leo - he wanted to grab some food before heading over to Friar's.”

“Okay. See you in half an hour.”

“Remember: breathe. You’ve got this.”

Yuuri sighs. Phichit pats his shoulder as he walks back to Leo, who waves from the other side of the food court.

Finally alone again, Yuuri leans back in his seat, arms folded, staring out into the vastness of the food court.

_Yeah. I’ve got this._

* * *

When Yuuri walks into Friar’s Hall 220, the room is a little more packed than The Symphonics’, and there is a table full of snacks and a kettle for tea. He signs in, grabs his name tag, and waves hello to some of the Vocal Point members he knows. He takes a seat next to Otabek Altin, who he recognizes from Symphonics callbacks.

“Long day, huh?”

Otabek nods. “Second callback. I’ve got one more later.”

“For who?”

“Pitch Slapped.”

Their conversation ends there, and minutes later, the callbacks begin.

Sara introduces herself as Vocal Point’s music director, and explains what they’re going to be doing that afternoon: sectionals, and then small groups (basically, standard practice). Everyone goes around the room to introduce themselves, and Yuuri spots Yuri Plisetsky walk in late, quietly picking up his name tag before sitting down next to him.

“Did I miss anything?”

“No,” Yuuri says, not looking at him.

“Good.”

Yuuri introduces himself soon after, then Yurio, and Sara splits them off into sectionals. Yuuri’s relieved that he sings the same part as Phichit, and this time there’s another tenor, Guang-Hong Ji, joining them.

“Wait, are you the CU Confessions Boy?” Guang-Hong asks, eyes wide. Yuuri suppresses an embarrassed groan and nods, face red. Yuri Plisetsky rolls his eyes. Thankfully, Phichit intervenes.

“Alright, we’re going to start this off. I’ve got my pitch pipe on my phone. Here’s the starting chord, the first note, _annnnnnd_ , here we go.”

They run through the piece, and Phichit’s a good, encouraging section leader. Yuuri finds that he blends incredibly well with Phichit and Guang-Hong, but Yuri doesn’t seem to be trying as hard as he was earlier.

When they take a break, Yuuri walks up to Yuri at the snack table.

“Are you okay?”

Yuri looks at him and frowns. “Yeah, why?”

“It’s just…”

“It’s been a long day, okay?”

Yuuri nods and leaves it at that, because it certainly has been.

They split into octets, and Yuuri feels a bit more confident this time, allowing himself to get into the song. He hadn’t sung with Phichit since they first moved in together two years ago, so it was nice to see that they could still harmonize and blend well.

When they break into even smaller groups, Yuuri tries his hardest to listen to the other people singing with him. He, Yuri, and Guang-Hong switch out a few times, but Sara seems to call Yuuri up more than the other two.

However, every time he's called up, he feels like he can do anything. 

This, he thinks, is probably the most fun he's had singing with people since high school.

He's almost a little sad when it ends.

“Thank you all so much for your time. This was really fun,” Sara says happily. Mickey nods next to her, grinning. “You’ll be hearing from us at six PM on the dot tomorrow, so have your phones ready!”

He lingers for a few minutes afterwards to talk to some of the current Vocal Point members, and finally leaves when Mickey kicks all of the auditioners out so the group could deliberate.

Yuuri barely has time to say goodbye to Phichit, who gives him two excited thumbs up.

He walks home, feeling accomplished and longing for his bed. He turns off the little fan that had been pointing at where he spilled his tea earlier that day, and plops into bed, face first into his pillow.

* * *

 **Phichit Chulanont** _added 4 photos — with_ ** Isabella Yang ** _and _ ** 10 others ** _at_ **City University Student Union** **   
** _4 hrs ago_

_AUDITIONS + CALLBACKS ARE FINALLY OVERRRRRRRRRRR~ time to deliberate with these fools and then we get to welcome the new lil points tomorrow. and then I get to sleep for fifty years. #VocalPointSquad #whatissleepwhenyoureinacappella #CUacappella_

**\--**

**Sara Crispino** — _feeling_ **excited** _with_ **Michele Crispino** _and_ **10** **others** _  
__25 min ago_

_ So proud of my VP family! <3 Can't wait to welcome the next batch of Little Points tomorrow.  _

_** Comments ** _

** Leo de la Iglesia  ** (11:05 PM)  
_THANKS FOR EVERYTHING MOM_

 ** Michele Crispino **  (11:06 PM)  
**Leo** _what the hell_

\--

**Christophe Giacometti**  —  _feeling_ **like death** _with_ **Ketty Abelashvili** _and_ **11 others**   _at_ **BJ's Restaurant and Brewhouse  
** _3 hrs ago_

_BIGGEST[PIZOOKIE](https://www.google.com/search?q=bj%27s+brewhouse+big+pizookie&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjo7_ODo93TAhXjsVQKHZuyCucQ_AUIBigB&biw=1243&bih=659) IN THE ENTIRE WORLD TO CELEBRATE BEING DONE WITH AUDITIONS AND CALLBACKS. _ **Georgi** _passed out before we even started ordering hahahahahaha he's not getting any of this cookie_

**_Comments_ **

**Mila Babicheva** (8:25 PM)  
_why couldn't you have waited to post this until after dinner_  
( **Victor Nikiforov, Georgi Popovich,** _and_ _15 others liked this_ )

 **Ketty Abelashvili** (8:33 PM)  
_i'm gonna die @_ **Georgi**   _rn_ _  
_

( _photo)  
( **2** **0 people** liked this._)

 **Georgi Popovich** (8:35)  
_I HATE YOU RIGHT NOW_ **Ketty**

\--

Yuuri throws his phone in a corner and curls up in his bed, pulling his blankets up and over his head.  

_It’ll all be okay._

His phone lights up several times and he tries to resist the urge to pick it up, but the temptation is too much. He unlocks his screen.

 **Phichit Chulanont** (12:32 AM)  
_ >> hey! I won’t be able to come home tonight; I’m stuck at Mickey and Sara’s lol. Just try to sleep ok?????_  
_ >> everything will be ok :)_  
_ >> yuuri i know you’re awake_  
_ >> you did wonderful today!!!!!!!!!!!!!_  
_> > Ok now go to sleep_

He huffs and locks his phone again, setting it on his nightstand.

Tomorrow is going to be the longest day of his life.

* * *

**Sunday**

Yuuri stares at his phone obsessively as the minutes inch towards 6PM. He'd spent his Sunday afternoon doing homework and improvising in the piano room - basically doing anything to stave off the anxiety that had been eating at him all weekend after both of his callbacks. Victor hasn't been able to text him back, and Phichit didn't come home after Vocal Point deliberations last night (he's probably still at the Crispinos' apartment with the rest of the current members).

In the end, though, he knew he tried his best.

_5:59PM_

_6:00PM_

And right on the dot, he receives a call from an unknown number.

"Hello?" He says, a little too excitedly as he picks up his phone.

"Hi, is this Yuuri? This is Leo from Vocal Point."

Yuuri's heart beats fast.

"Hi, Leo!"

"Well, first off, we'd like to say thank you for auditioning for us, and--"

He hears Phichit in the background yell, "Just say it already," accompanied by a titter of laughter.

"God damn it, Phichit. Okay, Yuuri! Welcome to Vocal Point!"

He hears loud cheers and screams on the other line (and quite possibly, a vuvuzela), and he laughs, clutching his chest in relief.

"Okay, you don't have to accept us immediately. We know you auditioned for, um, _another_ group, so just call us back when you've made a decision, and we'll give you more details then!"

"Okay!" Yuuri exclaims. "Oh my god, thank you so much. I'm...wow," he says, breathless. "Okay. I'll get back to you guys as soon as possible!"

"Alright, talk to you later, Yuuri! And congratulations again!"

Yuuri hangs up and nearly hugs his phone. One group down, one more to go.

He waits ten more minutes.

Twenty-six.

Thirty-five.

And then, his doorbell rings. He nearly trips on his own feet standing up, and pads quickly towards the front door, taking cursory glances at his phone.

“Who is it--? Oh,” he says, blinking, when he opens the door.

It’s Victor.

“Hi, Yuuri.”

“Victor,” Yuuri breathes.

“I just,” Victor begins, scratching the back of his head, looking down on the floor.

“Do you, um, want to come in?”

He hesitates. “I don’t know if you’d want me to come in after this.”

Yuuri’s heart drops.

“Oh.”

“I just wanted to tell you that it was so difficult, and…”

Yuuri cuts him off. “...Victor, don’t sugarcoat it.”

Victor stares at him. “I’m sorry. You didn’t get in.”

“I...well,” Yuuri sighs, laughing sadly, “I guess I...sorta expected that?”

Victor raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, It’s just…” Yuuri bites his lip. “I could tell from the very beginning that Yuri Plisetsky blended so much better with both of you. His tone quality's very similar to yours.”

“I mean, tones can be fixed, and…”

“But this can’t—I mean the fact that I didn’t get in,” Yuuri shrugs. He feels tears welling up in his eyes, and he tries to fight them, but in the end he lets one fall and wipes it away quickly. “Thanks, Victor. I kinda...well, I kinda appreciate you coming over to tell me instead of on the phone. I guess...I guess I’ll see you around?”

He smiles and starts to close the door, but Victor holds it open.

“I heard you got into Vocal Point. Sara messaged me. You should say yes to them. They’re a great group.”

Yuuri nods. “Yeah. I’m going to.”

“Yuuri?”

“Mmm?”

“I...hope I can see you again after all of this."

Yuuri blushes slightly. "Yeah."

"I'll text you later this week."

“That...sounds like a plan.”

“Also, Yuuri? I...I fought hard for you. I promise I did.”

Yuuri stares at him. “Thank you.”

They say their goodbyes, and Yuuri leans back against the door, lifting up his phone.

Smiling determinedly, he calls Leo back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *breathes* WOW, OKAY. So sorry for the long wait. I went to three different conventions this past month and work has been crazy, so I didn't have much time to write in April. I promise that chapter four will be here sooner than you think. I was going through my plot outline and figured out that this fic will probably be around 10-12 chapters long, but that's subject to change.
> 
> As always, you can find me on Twitter at @yuutopias, and on Tumblr as han-leia. Say hi!


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